


Put Words Into Action

by CassLikesFic



Series: Conversations [5]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Developing Relationship, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:15:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23132287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassLikesFic/pseuds/CassLikesFic
Summary: It took the better part of four days before they made it to the next town. Whoever was penning the song of Jaskier’s life, he had to bitterly credit them with a sense of humor.The snow was too deep to travel that morning, falling fast and hard. Geralt grunted about this being why they shouldn’t hunt or travel in late autumn. He kept the cave as warm as possible, hauling in most of a small tree and snapping branches off it, quick and efficiently.Jaskier watched his hands, and bit back on the words.You promised. Tomorrow.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Conversations [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1631728
Comments: 31
Kudos: 459





	Put Words Into Action

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to everyone for your encouraging comments! I'm still so astonished and grateful at the response to my fic. You're all lovely.

It took the better part of four days before they made it to the next town. Whoever was penning the song of Jaskier’s life, he had to bitterly credit them with a sense of humor.

The snow was too deep to travel that morning, falling fast and hard. Geralt grunted about this being why they shouldn’t hunt or travel in late autumn. He kept the cave as warm as possible, hauling in most of a small tree and snapping branches off it, quick and efficiently.

Jaskier watched his hands, and bit back on the words.

_You promised. Tomorrow._

As though Geralt could hear his thoughts, he gave Jaskier an amused, half smile. “I always keep my promises.” The words went straight to Jaskier’s gut like a blow, and he knew that there was nothing he could do to disguise what they did to him. His heartbeat sped, and sped further still when he noticed its pace. Geralt could hear the sound of his pulse thrumming along his skin, if he chose to listen. “We’ll have to wait it out.”

There were conversations, to pass the time.

_Tell me._

_Show me._

_Here? Like this?_

_There. Good._

_Yes. Yes. Yes._

They lay pressed against each other in daylight, fully dressed, rocked against each other. Exposed skin long enough to gasp to completion in each other’s mouths, over fingers. Dozed in the circle of each other’s arms. Fed the fire. Washed in melted snow, ate dried rations, slept again.

When the snow stopped and night fell, a low chittering growl and glowing eyes waited outside of their cave. Drawn to warmth, drawn by vulnerable sounds made by two heedless travelers. Geralt knelt and meditated, waiting for the beast to return. Jaskier lay silent and waited untouched beneath the blanket the next two nights. He had the anticipation of too many sharp gnashing teeth, a rank smell, and the sound of claws scratching at the mouth of the cave to chill his blood.

When it returned the next night, there was a silent flash of silver and a splatter. Blood sparkled like berries on the snow the next morning.

“Snow’s let up. We can head for town.” Geralt said, fixing Jaskier with a level gaze. Jaskier’s tongue glued itself to the roof of his mouth and he nodded, helping Geralt pack up the camp in silence. 

_Silence filled with the pace of his breathing. The scent of his breath. The sound of his heartbeat._

“You can save your coin.” Geralt huffed out a soft, amused sound that might be a laugh as he strapped the beast’s head to his saddle, hidden in a rough cloth sack. Jaskier’s mind took a moment to process those words, and his mouth went dry. _I have coin_. He’d murmured that, heedless and eager.

“Right. Good, yeah, good.” He agreed, passing over the rolled up bedding and his own small pack, hands drifting over the strap of his lute case with nervous energy.

“Should make it to town by nightfall. Midnight, at the latest.” Geralt held out a hand, and tugged Jaskier up into the saddle. Geralt’s cloak wrapped around both of them once more, his arms strong against Jaskier’s sides. Roach walked at a steady pace, not a gallop, but Jaskier felt minutely aware of every shift of Geralt’s hips and thighs against his own. Geralt’s fingers seemed to burn against his hip, through layers of finely tailored wool cloth.

 _The only sound you’ll make will be sweet relief,_ echoed through his mind, again and again.

It was a long ride into town.

They arrived hours past sundown. The apothecary was long closed. At this point, exhausted and aching, Jaskier thought he’d be deeply grateful merely for ten minutes of privacy, a wash with water that wasn’t melted snow, and a bed that wasn’t stone.

The alderman answered Geralt’s knock, at least, and paid in good coin for solving a problem they hadn’t known the village had.

They were also paid with a hot meal by the kitchen fire, and a night in the Alderman’s large house. Jaskier picked at the rich food despite his hunger, thinking of the way Geralt described the smell of his desire. _Your temperature rises. Your skin smells warmer. Your pupils dilate, your heart rate increases. Your breath changes- it’s faster, there’s a small hitch at the top of your inhale. Your lips part slightly and I smell more of what’s on your breath._ Most of his plate disappeared without him tasting it. It could have been rabbit over a campfire and foraged winter greens, for all he knew. 

He left the expensive wine, wetting his lips with it for politeness sake but not savoring the rich red the way Geralt clearly did. Jaskier felt a pang of sympathy for his lute strings. Is that what it felt like, being wound tighter and then looser; plucked until you finally, finally rang out in the right sweet note? 

For the first time in his life, Jaskier dubiously eyed the separate beds. Plush with soft blankets, many pillows, and feather mattresses. True, he’d been adventurous under other people’s roofs before, but it didn’t feel...fitting, with Geralt. Biting back sounds, being careful of the fine cloth beneath, knowing that any stain left would bear explanation... 

Geralt, meanwhile, was stripping easily down to skin and eyeing the bath with obvious pleasure and approval. He looked at Jaskier and raised one eyebrow. “Would you rather wait until it gets cold?”

Jaskier had been nude around Geralt plenty of times - swimming in rivers, washing at campsites, simply changing clothes. But somewhere over a week’s travel and conversations, nude had turned into _naked_ and lost some of the easy comfort it had held. Jaskier rubbed his cheek, felt the stubble of the past few days under his fingers. Knew he wasn’t at his best, in slept in clothes and sore from the long ride. And he would be undressing in front of...well, a lover, in addition to his best friend and travel companion. He fiddled with the buttons on his doublet, suddenly paying much closer attention to them than usual.

“You’re nervous.” 

“Well. Erm.”

“Hm.” Geralt sank easily into the water with a low groan of pleasure at the heat. He closed his eyes with a soft smile. “Bath’s just a bath. A good one.”

“Right.” One of Geralt’s eyes cracked open again at his tone.

“A shared bath?” There was the slightest quirk of Geralt’s lips again, and then his eyes closed again at the look on Jaskier’s face.

“I’m being an idiot.” Jaskier muttered, taking his clothes off and leaving them neatly folded on a chair. 

“Hmm.” That amused twitch of lips again. Geralt waited to ask his next question until Jaskier sank into the water across the tub from him, hissing softly at the heat. It was just short of scalding. While the Witcher clearly appreciated that temperature, Jaskier felt rather like a lobster being prepared for a feast. “Does being in a fine house instead of a cold cave make a difference to you?”

“...I don’t know.” Jaskier admitted with a small smile, speaking around the hammering of his heart. “I don’t want to disappoint you, that’s all.” 

“You won’t.” Geralt said. “Come here.” Jaskier leaned back against Geralt, settling back into his body with a soft sigh. Geralt pressed a kiss to the corner of his jaw, sending sparks curling up in his belly. Now that he thought about it, the radiant heat of the water was rather pleasant, especially on travel sore muscles. Geralt murmured low, near his ear, “I shouldn’t have said _tomorrow_. There was no way to know for certain.”

“I knew what you meant-”

“I kept you waiting.” Geralt’s hand, large and strong rubbed over Jaskier’s stomach, easing some of the tension knotted there. Kindling a different tension. Even exhausted, well fed, and warm, Jaskier could feel the beginning of his body’s response. “You worried I changed my mind. Or that I’d be...impatient with you.”

“Perhaps.” Jaskier admitted with a wry smile. Geralt nosed at his temple, inhaling and then huffing that soft, half-amused breath against his skin.

“You think too much. Your mouth’s dry, and you bit your bottom lip raw today. You didn’t eat enough at dinner.”

“I think just the right amount-” Jaskier protested, letting his eyes fall closed as Geralt’s hands moved soothingly up and down his sides. 

“When you’re worried, tell me. I can’t read your mind.”

“Could have fooled me.” Jaskier said with a low laugh. Geralt nosed behind his ear, and Jaskier could feel the smile against his skin. _That’s for me_ . He thought dizzily. _That smile is for me._

“Just enjoy the bath. Don’t worry about the rest tonight.” Geralt said quietly. Jaskier wanted to protest, but the unknotting of his sore muscles and the bleeding away of the tension were already wrapping him up like a soft blanket. Geralt’s hands continued moving over his skin slowly. Not moving towards any goal, simply touching for the sake of touch. “You’re tired.”

“I want- I do want- but...I _am_ tired. Not as young as I was.” Jaskier managed to say around a yawn. “...years past, I would have been singing in an inn for our dinner at this hour. Finding someone willing and eager to take to bed.”

“You’ve had supper.” Geralt closed his teeth gently over the tender join where his neck met his shoulder, and Jaskier groaned softly. “And I’ll warm your bed.”

“Even if it’s just for sleep. For tonight?” It was a strange feeling. Languid, full of desire, but with the certainty that the desire could wait until...well, whenever it needed to wait.

“Yes, Jaskier.” Geralt’s tone was gentle, and careful. Again, Jaskier thought sleepily, as though he was learning a new language and wanted to make certain the words were correct before he spoke them. “Just for sleep. For tonight.”


End file.
